


Converging In The Middle

by tj_teejay



Category: Daredevil (TV), Jessica Jones (TV)
Genre: Daredevil Season 2 spoilers, Gen, Gunshot Wounds, Injury, Luke Cage Season 1 Spoilers, Snark, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-25
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-09-06 04:42:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8735323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tj_teejay/pseuds/tj_teejay
Summary: Two very different crime fighters from Hell's Kitchen come to Claire for patch-ups. One night, they happen to come to her at the same time, and bump into each other. Claire really needs a vacation.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheFictionFairy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheFictionFairy/gifts).



> This is both my Daredevil Secret Santa fill for TheFictionFairy, and a Daredevil bingo fill for one of my prompts. Fair warning upfront, I’m not that huge a fan of Jessica Jones, so I’m not a hundred percent sure I got her character and voice right. I hope I did okay.
> 
> The prompt was exactly what I put as a description in the summary. :)
> 
> A little side note: The jury is still out on whether Matt’s suit is a onesie or comes in two parts. It’s probably more likely that it’s one piece, but for the sake of creative license, let’s assume that the version Matt wears in this story has separate leg and torso parts, okay?

“Ow!” Jessica flinched.

Claire sighed. “For a super-strong superhuman, you’re surprisingly whiny.”

“You try having a gash in your arm a mile long, and a barely qualified nurse stitching it back together.”

Claire halted in the middle of suturing. “Barely qualified, huh? I can stop this any time and send you to the nearest clinic. And I will, if you keep moaning about it.”

Jessica rolled her eyes. “You’re better than anyone I know. So, uh, keep going.”

Claire couldn’t hide her small smile. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.” She wasn’t offended—she had known Jessica for a good while now. Coming from her, it was practically an endorsement, if not outright praise. She continued with the stitches and asked, “How did this happen again?”

“Dude with a knife.”

“I hope you kicked his ass.”

Jessica grinned. “I did. Literally. Son of a bitch flew a good twenty feet, right into a dumpster. I may or may not have made sure he couldn’t get out on his own.”

“Atta girl.”

“All in a night’s work, r—”

They both flinched when there was a sound from Claire’s fire escape. A metallic thud of feet hitting the small metal platform there. Claire tensed.

“You expecting company?” Jessica whispered.

Claire shook her head, but then she quickly relaxed when a muffled, yet familiar voice called her name. She sighed, then turned back to Jessica. “I guess this is why you guys started calling me the Night Nurse. Don’t move.”

She put the needle and thread aside, took off the nitrile gloves, and went over to the window, opening the latch and sliding it up. Instinctively, she tried to place herself between the open window and the room. The last thing Matt needed, or probably wanted, was to be exposed—fellow superhero or not.

She tried to quickly assess him for injuries. There wasn’t anything major she could detect in the dim light of the streetlights down below, other than him cradling his left arm in his right. “You better be dying.”

“I don’t know,” he quipped. “You tell me.”

“This isn’t really a great time.”

Matt cocked his head to one side. “You have company.”

“I do, but not what you may think. How badly hurt are you?”

He visibly sobered from whatever jovial banter he might have offered otherwise. “Gunshot to the arm. .22 revolver. Bullet’s still in there, I can feel it moving.”

“Damn,” she replied. “Yeah, I’ll need to take that out. .22s can be fickle little bastards.”

“Meet me at my place?” he suggested.

“Nuh-uh. That thing could be traveling right up your vein and wreak havoc on the way. You’re not going back out there if I can help it.”

He drew in a breath that was shakier than she knew he would care to admit. Yep, he was definitely in pain, and there was no way in hell he’d be able to climb up fire escapes and skip across rooftops. She rubbed her eyebrow. “Let me figure this one out, okay? You can, uh—”

“Look,” Jessica called across the room, “if it's the pretty lawyer boy who moonlights as a blind vigilante, you can let him in.” There was a slosh of liquid in a glass bottle, and Claire had no idea how Jessica had gotten to her stash of whiskey so quickly. “I can keep secrets, you know?”

Claire raised her eyebrows at Matt. “Looks like you've already been made.”

Matt was scrunching up his forehead, trying to read the situation. “Who is she?”

“Someone not unlike yourself. Also superpowers. Also injured. Also a stubborn jackass.”

“Is she safe?”

“I’d say as safe as they get.”

Matt made a movement and winced in pain, releasing the grip on his injured arm. There was blood on his glove. Even after all this time, it stabbed Claire right in the heart to see it. “Unless you wanna die a slow, painful death from a small caliber bullet lodging itself right into your heart muscle, you’re coming inside right now. No discussion. Trust me, she’ll keep your secret.”

He didn’t look all that convinced, but Claire’s hand was already on his arm, tugging at it, and he didn’t offer much resistance after that.

Jessica had wisely already vacated the sofa, half empty whiskey bottle in hand. “Ladies first,” she said dryly.

Matt sat down with a groan, still fully dressed in his Daredevil outfit—mask and everything. Claire kneeled down to examine the wound on his upper arm. “You’ll need to take this thing off.”

He wasn’t happy about that either, but Claire had worked on him once or twice after he’d acquired the new suit, so she knew where the zippers were and was already undoing them. The thing was that the suit was custom-made, and fit as snug as a jumpsuit could fit a human body. Matt was trying to help but didn’t really get anywhere. Claire sighed, turning her head towards where Jessica was standing with an amused little smile on her face. “A little help, please?”

“Are you seriously asking me to undress him?”

“I’m asking you to help me get this thing off of him so I can make sure _this_ stubborn jackass doesn’t die right here on my sofa.”

“Overdramatize much?” Jessica huffed.

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Matt muttered.

“Me undressing the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen sure would,” Jessica countered.

Claire hissed at her, “Can you help me, or not?”

Jessica let out a long-suffering sigh. “Yeah. Whatever. But only because getting rid of bodies undetected in the middle of Manhattan is a real bitch.”

Claire gave her a surprised expression. “You got experience with that?”

“Nope. But, you know... doesn’t exactly take a genius to figure that one out.”

It took a good amount of jostling to get him out of the suit and the black longsleeve, but finally Matt’s torso was exposed, and he was wearing an expression that hovered almost adorably between angry and wet puppy and totally embarrassed.

Claire was too focused on Matt’s gunshot wound to really realize the extent of his other injuries that she only took note of when Jessica stated, “You’ve sure been through the grinder. Did you try to stop a train with your body, or something?”

His upper body was bruised all over. Some fresh, some already sporting a greenish tint. He’d have to have multiple broken ribs. “Holy shit, Matt,” she couldn’t help but say.

“What?” he asked almost innocently.

“She’s right. How long has this been going on?”

“This what?”

She gestured at the bruising all over his ribcage. “However many ribs you’ve busted. Too many to still be doing your night job, by the looks of it.”

He shrugged, immediately wincing again. “I’m fine.”

“Yeah, like I haven’t heard that one before.”

His voice was starting to sound impatient. “Can you fix my arm, or not?”

She drew in a breath. “Yes. But it’s gonna hurt.”

He just pressed his lips together and wisely said nothing while Claire roamed through her medical bag, well-worn by now from more frequent use than she would ever have thought or wanted.

“Incoming,” she warned Matt as she drew the adjustable table lamp closer, trying to assess the damage.

The entry wound was fairly small, and since the bullet was still inside him, there wasn’t any exit wound. It would have been more messy. Small favors right here. She gently pressed into the soft tissue around the wound, and he flinched and sucked in a sharp breath, but otherwise stayed quiet. Always the soldier, ever the martyr.

“Can you feel where it is?” she asked.

“Yeah. Here.” He indicated a spot two inches above the entry wound with the finger of his other hand.

“Geez,” she mumbled. “That’s gonna take some digging. Guess you’re still running a non-acceptance policy on painkillers…?”

“Yeah.”

“At least let me numb it locally. I don’t want you jerking away while I’m elbow deep in your bicep with a pair of forceps.”

He forced a small smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Hyperbole doesn’t suit you.”

“Don’t evade the question.”

“Fine. Do what you have to.”

“Finally, reason prevails.”

Claire went to work, quiet and focused, trying to forget that she was operating on a friend rather than a random stranger staggering into the ER.

Beside her, she could hear Jessica inspecting the top piece of the Daredevil suit they’d dropped on the floor next to the couch after wrestling Matt out of it. When she glanced over, Jessica was holding it out like a piece of damp laundry waiting to be hung.

“You know, Hornhead, a protective suit and all that is nice, but I liked the black pajamas better.”

“Don’t call me that,” Matt snarled.

“The, uh,” she gestured at the cowl that was now lying askew on the coffee table, “horns are a bit much, don’t you think?”

“You wouldn’t be the first to say that.”

“And yet, there you are. Hornhead.” She let the suit drop back to the floor where she stood.

Matt angled his face in her direction. “Well, since we’re already judging each other, care to tell me your name?”

Jessica let out a little snort through her nose. “Yeah, if you think we’re gonna play _‘Show me yours, I’ll show you mine’_ , guess again.”

“So what do you want me to call you?”

“I don’t want you to call me anything, because you won’t need to, because after tonight, we are never going to meet again.”

Claire saw how Matt cocked his head to one side, how his eyes went even more unfocused than they normally were. He was sizing her up, trying to pick up nuances and details. It still amazed the hell out of her how he did it. Then a small, self-satisfied smile spread over his lips just as Claire managed to grab the bullet with the forceps and carefully pulled it out.

Matt drew in another sharp breath, then let it out slowly. He gave the pain another few seconds to subside, then said, “But if we _were_ to meet again, I think I’d call you Jessica.”

She shrugged. “Yeah. Whatever.”

“Foggy’s been mentioning you.”

Claire stopped short. “Wait. Foggy knows her, too?”

“His new workplace. Jessica’s been stopping by there every now and then. There’s just something about us superhero types where having a capable lawyer to go to has its perks.”

Claire reached over to prepare the sutures. “Foggy’s her lawyer?”

“No. I think she’s in with his new boss.”

“Hello?” Jessica said with annoyance in her voice. “I’m right here, assholes.”

Matt continued unperturbed and turned his head to face Claire. “You know what she does for a living, right?”

Claire shrugged. “Nope, I don’t, and I’m happy for it to stay that way. I already know way too much about _you_.” She grinned and pointedly added, “Mike.”

“Did you know that Michael is actually my middle name?”

“Heh. Some coincidence.”

“Or intuition on your part.”

“Or maybe Michael is just a really great name for pigheaded jerks who don’t know how to appreciate the best women in their lives.”

Matt drew a mock offended face. “Ouch. That hurts.”

Jessica let out a derisive chuckle in the background. “Save your awkward flirting, Hornhead. In case you didn’t know, the lady’s taken.”

Matt’s brow briefly creased, then he angled his head questioningly at Claire’s face. She sighed, then grinned. “At least his name isn’t Michael.”

It was strange to see the emotions on Matt’s face. He’d never been good at hiding them. Maybe because facial expressions hadn’t meant much to him for the better part of his life. There was clearly surprise there, and she thought she could also detect a hint of disappointment. Which was… well, perhaps not exactly wrong, because they’d mutually agreed that whatever there may have been between them, it wasn’t going to work. Why was he still disappointed?

“Relax, lawyer boy,” Jessica said. “He’s a decent guy.”

“You know him?” he addressed her.

“Yeah. He’s helped me out a few times. Really came through when it mattered. She made a good catch.”

Matt nodded in Claire’s direction. “Sounds like you have endorsement from all sides.”

She gently touched his forearm. “Including yours?”

He smiled briefly, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Can I reserve judgment until I’ve actually met him?”

“Innocent until proven guilty. Isn’t that how it works?”

“Oops,” Jessica added. “Minor detail. He’s actually in jail.”

“What for?” Matt asked.

Claire let out a sigh. “It’s kind of a long story. He was wrongfully charged for a crime he didn’t commit.”

It looked like Matt’s interest was definitely piqued. Claire continued with the last sutures as he asked, “Does he have a case?”

“It’s not that easy. He’s incarcerated in Georgia. I hear you can’t just ask your lawyer friend to go get someone out of jail in another state.”

Matt raised his eyebrows. “Yeah, Georgia isn’t part of the Uniform Bar Exam. Nor is New York, as a matter of fact. I wouldn’t have jurisdiction down there, unless there was a reciprocity agreement between the two states.”

“According to Foggy, there isn’t.”

“You went to Foggy?” Now Matt actually sounded offended.

She shrugged. “Well, it’s not like you still even practice law. At least not in the traditional sense.”

He lowered his head. Damn.

“So you go to Foggy for the legal advice, but you’d have come to me if you wanted someone beaten up?” It wasn’t really a question.

“No, Matt. I don’t go and have people beaten up in my name. Foggy seemed like the logical choice, given the circumstances. It wasn’t anything personal.”

“Circumstances?”

She really didn’t want to open this particular can of worms, but maybe he needed to hear it. “With everything you have going on, I didn’t want to add anything to that plate of yours that’s already full.”

“In other words, you didn’t trust me to handle it.”

“No. No, Matt, that’s not what I’m saying. I’m sure you’re a good lawyer. A great one, even. Hell, you put Wilson Fisk away—you and Foggy.”

“Nelson and Murdock,” he said, and she couldn’t help but detect the melancholy among the bitterness that soaked his voice.

“Yeah, Nelson and Murdock. Whom I would have gone to, if you were still in business.”

“I would have helped you, Claire.”

“I know that. But I also know you have more important things to take care of.”

Jessica was impatiently clicking her fingernails on the bottle of whiskey she was still holding. “Look, can we stop with the pity party so I can get out of here?”

Claire inspected her handiwork—all of nine neat stitches on Matt’s upper arm. “Keep the wound dry for a few days. Don’t pop the stitches. Are you hurt anywhere else?”

He shrugged with one shoulder. “Nothing that needs medical attention.”

Claire shook her head incredulously. “Why do I even ask?”

Jessica stepped closer. “Move over, Hornhead.”

Matt didn’t grace her with a response and heaved himself off the couch with a groan. “All yours.”

Out of the corner of her eyes, Claire saw that Matt was putting the undershirt and the suit top back on and moved towards the window. “Hold your horses, I’m not done with you.”

He gave her a weak smile. “Yes, you are. I’m not dying. That works for me.”

Jessica looked at Claire and shrugged. “Works for me, too.”

Claire rolled her eyes. “Clearly, I’m a magnet for people with poor decision making skills.”

“Comes with the territory,” Jessica commented.

“Bye, Claire,” Matt said, putting on his cowl. He slid open the window and added, “Jessica.”

The latter replied sarcastically, “Yeah, nice to meet you too.”

“See a doctor, next time you’re bleeding out,” Claire called after him.

Matt was out the window and gone without further response. She hadn’t expected anything else, quite frankly. And yet, somehow he always managed to do it in a way that she couldn’t be upset with him for longer than thirty seconds. Damn those blank brown eyes and lost puppy face.

She turned her attention to the gash in Jessica’s arm. “Now back to you.”

“Make it quick, will you?”

“Do you want quality or speed? ‘Cause I can’t do both.”

“Fine,” Jessica grumbled.

After that, silence ensued. Claire kept working on the sutures.

Jessica stayed quiet, but not for long. “So,” she asked, “Obviously you've met Luke, and obviously you're cozy with Murdock. How many of us do you know?”

“How many of you are there?”

Jessica shrugged. “Well, there's the Avengers…”

“The Stark guy and his posse? I'd like to think he has more capable people to go to for medical treatment than a no-name ER nurse.”

“So you haven't met Danny?”

Claire raised her eyebrows exasperatedly. “Please don't send any more ‘special’ people my way. You guys are already more than a sane mind can handle.”

“Hey, I didn't _send_ anyone. Murdock turned up all on his own.”

“That, he did.”

“How did he find you?”

“He didn't. I found _him_. In a dumpster, bleeding half to death.”

“And you decided to rescue him.”

Claire shrugged. “Once a nurse, always a nurse.”

“Was he in his costume?”

“Yeah. The, uh… what did you call it? Black pajamas?”

“Seems like an apt description.”

“Sucked in terms of protection, though.”

“Please don't tell me you like the horns.”

“I don't like the horns.”

Jessica grinned. “Good. At least one thing we can agree on.”

Claire cut off the last of the stitches and applied an adhesive bandage. “Leave that on and—”

“Keep it dry,” Jessica interrupted. “Yeah, I know the drill.”

“Just another indication that I've been doing this one too many times.”

Jessica was already getting up off the couch, putting on her black leather jacket. She harrumphed. “Thanks, uhm… for, you know…”

Claire smiled knowingly. “You're welcome. And just so you know, patching you guys up in the middle of the night isn’t exactly how I pictured that this would work. It’d be nice if you started paying me for the overtime.”

“I'll let you in on a secret. The Stark guy may be suggesting otherwise, but special powers don't automatically come with money attached. Definitely a shortcoming, if you ask me.”

She walked over to the window and, just like Matt, slid it open and climbed out onto the fire escape. Before she closed it again, she said, “See you around.”

“I hope not,” Claire told her, but she wasn't sure Jessica had heard it.

There was a dull thud a few seconds later, and Claire let out the bone-deep sigh she'd been holding back all evening. How had she become the go-to person for all things vigilante medical treatment?

The open med kit was mocking her on the coffee table, and as she put the equipment and supplies away, zipping up the black nylon bag, she couldn't help but wonder who the mysterious Danny was, and how long it'd take until he was sitting on her couch to be put back together. She made a mental note to ask Matt about him the next time the met.

That ‘next time’ that she kept hoping wasn’t gonna happen. But it would. And she knew that as well, but she didn't have to like it.


End file.
